The Ghosts Of Crimson Butterfly
by Laraqua
Summary: A collection of tales describing the lives of both the inhabitants and the visitors to All God's Village.
1. Default Chapter

WOMAN IN OSAKA BOX  
  
Kiyoka had walked around Osaka House so often she only had to close her eyes to remember what each wall, each corner, looked like. Even then, her sight marred with the onset of cataracts, she was able to easily keep up with her son, Hiroshi. They both knew what had happened, even though neither had actually stated it. The second ritual had failed. She had known it would, without Yae, and yet part of her had still hoped.  
  
Part of her had refused to believe that she and her children were to be swallowed by the darkness. Her two youngest sons, both ten, were playing hide and seek upstairs. At least, they had been when she had last checked. She hoped they were still there, still safe. She could almost hear Sae cackling.  
  
Hiroshi stopped her and raised a finger, signalling that she should be silent. They both stopped, their eyes darting towards the door. Someone started banging on the door, crying for help, for refuge. The cackling wasn't in her mind. Sae was outside, approaching that man whose voice was made unrecognisable by pain. The man's screams raised in pitch, spurred higher by fear, only to suddenly drop into a gutteral screech that only agony can cause.  
  
The screams stopped yet the banging on the door continued. The knock wasn't so hard this time, not so frantic, a rhythmic banging that seemed to mimic her own heart as it knocked against her ribs.  
  
"Oh, help me, please?" Sae's laughing voice was a mockery of the poor man's. "Let me in before she gets me." Then someone screamed and she moved away from their door.  
  
Kiyoka started walking past the square fireplace when she heard heavy footsteps on the floor above. Something smashed and she heard lighter feet running. Letting out a strangled cry, she rushed towards the staircase but Hiroshi was faster. By the time she'd reached the top step, he was coming back out of the room. He had a look on his face that she would never forget. An expression that no word could ever do justice.  
  
The mere look on his face was enough to make her knees shake and she started to fall. Not forward or backward, merely down towards the floorboards. Hiroshi lunged forward and caught her, carrying her down the steps in the same motion. She screeched and tried to tear free from him, trying to get upstairs. She could hear sobbing. She could hear her poor sons sobbing.  
  
"Let me go, let me go," she said, her voice torn and mangled by emotion. "Why won't you let me check on them? I can hear it. They're alive. Get them out."  
  
"It's not them anymore," Hiroshi whispered in her ear.  
  
"Mummy?" her youngest child, Fudo, said. She had recognised his voice. He sounded okay. Didn't even sound injured. She struggled to free herself with renewed vigor and managed to force him away. Managed to fling herself down the hallway and push open the door.  
  
The scene was hideous. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't really remember what it looked like. Only one of her precious boys were no longer intact and there was evidence that the other boy was just as damaged. There were three arms, or three legs, something in a set of three. Fudo was mostly there, mostly lying in a semi-smear, semi-person, only two feet from the door.  
  
It looked like he had been trying to run, trying to escape. Even after the first attack, he looked like he had still tried to make it to safety. Make it to mummy. Now her eldest was dragging her away again, dragging her down the stairs, and this time she doesn't fight. In the room by the foyer, the kimono room or something, she could barely remember it's name. At the back, in the storeroom, lay a large empty box. More than large enough for her to lay in.  
  
"I'm going to go find a way out of here," Hiroshi had said.  
  
She had refused to let him leave her here, half out of fear of being alone and half out of fear for his life. She hadn't really wanted to join him in searching for a way out. Some part of her reasoned that this was her home. This was safe. That Hiroshi should wait here with her and that they would be safe. Fudo's face wasn't enough to make her disregard that notion.  
  
But he had merely kissed her cheek, apologised and shaken her away. Then he had gone for the door which she promptly fell upon, pleading with him not to go. She could not lose the last of her children. Who else would carry on the Osaka line? It was a futile argument but the only one she could think of.  
  
But he had merely punched her and shoved her into that empty box. There she had struggled to lift the lid, to get out and follow him. But the lid was too heavy for her frail arms to lift, at least from such an angle. To push up and across. Particularly while injured. So she had merely heard his footfalls and then the front door slam shut.  
  
Then she had listened to his screams. He had barely taken a few steps out before he started screaming. A few hours passed with her lying there, imaging herself trotting around her house to keep herself sane. Imagining what it all looked like. Pretending her children were by the fire or asleep. Her eldest one safe. It was all lies but she could still take refuge in illusion.  
  
It was after the third run-through of her fantasy of Hiroshi's upcoming wedding when she heard it. A sort of heavy breathing, like a child whose nose is blocked. It was coming from inside the box. A set of breaths different to her own. A different rhythm.  
  
Slowly, hesitantly, she turned to face the direction of the wall and saw Fudo's face hovering an inch from hers. Then he reached out his arms and enveloped her. His pain, transformed into malice, claimed her and she screamed as her body went into spasms. She kicked at the box lid, her black hair falling in her face, a veil in the darkness that was coming to claim her. She could not push the lid back.  
  
After a time, the pain went away and she could lay there unthinking. Possessed by her pain and her sorrow. In a place where even illusions of joy do not dwell.  
  
Does anyone have a particular ghost they'd like me to do a story on for the next chapter? If so, send it to me in a review. Sure, that's technically not what reviews are for, but what the hey? 


	2. Chitose

Chitose Tachibana was hiding beneath the floor in a small cupboard when the stranger came. She didn't suppose anyone noticed her absences. At least, if they did they never mentioned it. It was sort of expected that she wouldn't come out and talk to any visitors. Particularly outsiders. which was why she never made any friends. She only ever enjoyed playing with Itsuki and Mutsuki which was why she missed Mutsuki so much, now that he was gone.  
  
She didn't really understand why he had needed to go. Mostly because they hadn't really told her well enough. It wasn't their fault she didn't understand. She wasn't so small she didn't realise that hiding away to cry herself to sleep whenever anyone mentioned why Mutsuki had chosen to leave meant that they couldn't finish their sentence. Poor Mutsuki. Once, she had run out into the forest, meaning to find him, but she never had been able to find where he had gone.  
  
Yet ever since Mutsuki left, Yae had been visiting increasingly often in order to talk to Itsuki and Chitose didn't like that. She didn't like the way Yae smelled of a queer mix of vanilla – her soap – and almonds – her shampoo. She especially didn't like the way Itsuki looked at Yae whenever she visited. It had even been Chitose's birthday a few days ago but Itsuki was far too busy talking to Yae to really even notice her.  
  
So she had hidden herself away near where they were talking and listened really hard. Yae and Sae were going to do the ritual that had sent Mutsuki away and Sae was the one who had to leave. That made her angry. If anyone was going to leave, she had hoped it would be Yae. Then Yae had said something in a really low voice and Itsuki had started to cry. Quietly at first, then louder. It had scared Chitose because whenever she cried she had learned to hide it, to stifle it in a pillow.  
  
She was crying now, hearing of them mentioning Mutsuki, talking of how much they both missed him. Yae trying to comfort Chitose's brother. It made her angry. How dare that annoying cow try to steal him away? He was her brother. If he was sad she should be the one making him happy. But now she was too frightened to leave her hiding place because he would be angry that she had been listening in. So she stayed.  
  
"It's nearly time for the ritual," Itsuki said, finally. "You have to go and find Sae. It has to be now. You can't delay any longer."  
  
"Thank you, so very much. But the Kusabi..."  
  
"I'll try to help him. But you need to leave."  
  
With that, Yae had gone. Just left. Chitose never saw her again after that. A little bit later, Itsuki went outside to talk to somebody, maybe. So she crawled out of her hidey hole and sat down in his room. It looked like a cell. It even had bars for an inner window. She didn't like it very much but he did so she supposed that was the main thing.  
  
Long minutes passed and a woman with long black hair, Mirai, walked past Itsuki's room, smiling at her as she went by. Then she headed downstairs to admire the grandfather clock Tachibana had bought for them back in 1896, a good three years ago. Mirai always loved seeing the clock sound and always tried to come over, on the hour, to see it before returning to her husband.  
  
Then her brother returned. Itsuki, his once proud black hair a stark white cloud framing his head, came into his room. He looked surprised to see her. Then a strange smile passed over his features. "Could you please do me a favour?"  
  
The grandfather clock sounded below.  
  
"Of course, Itsuki," she said with a smile. Finally, she was important to him again. Finally he was saying more than a few words to her.  
  
"It's a very important favor."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Well... You see, there's a man who's coming here and I need him to get this key to my room. Only, well, I need to go arrange things with Yae and Sae so I need you to look after this. We can hang the key off the bell I gave you. Pass it here."  
  
She took off the bell she wore wrapped around her wrist and watched him unpick the knot and string the bell along. "What are you going to arrange?"  
  
"Just things for the ritual."  
  
"Will Mutsuki be coming back? Now that Sae is going away?"  
  
"No."  
  
"But that's not fair. I really miss Mutsuki. I really don't know why father can just make him leave us like that. He didn't really want to leave, did he? How come he's not here anymore?"  
  
"I've tried to tell you but you won't listen."  
  
"That's because you say such crazy things about hurting him and I know you would never hurt him. I don't know why you have to say such lies to me. I'm strong enough to be told the truth. Did he just not want to come by anymore? Did he leave because of something I did? Something I said?"  
  
"No, no," he turned to go.  
  
She climbed to her feet and stumbled over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug. Suddenly she was afraid. Something was wrong. Had been wrong for a year now. People whispered, huddled up, in corners. There were tears sometimes and cruel glances at Itsuki. She knew they didn't like him now that Mutsuki had gone. They blamed Itsuki for something she didn't quite understand.  
  
Now it was time for the ritual again and someone else was to leave. Everyone was tense and they wouldn't really talk to her about it. Now it was time for the ritual and Itsuki was leaving her again and she wasn't sure she'd ever see him again. She wasn't sure she'd see anyone again and it scared her.  
  
Chitose wanted him to stay with her. Please don't leave me, her eyes begged. Stay with me and keep me safe. I'm scared. The whole village is nervous and I don't know why. I just want you to make me feel better. Just keep me safe. But she didn't say any of those things. She didn't try to stop him when he gave her one final hug before turning away. But she did open her mouth to speak, to call after his fleeing back.  
  
But there were shouts outside and Itsuki was moving faster.  
  
So she stayed silent, there in his room, and she waited for him to come back. The darkness outside thickened. People came in searching for the twin girls. They demanded she tell them where Itsuki went but she really didn't know. Then there were more shouts and she ran to the window, barely catching a glimpse of torch fire in the distance. More people searching, down below, in her house. Then moving out onto the street and searching there. They were frantic, calling for Yae and Sae.  
  
"Don't run," they pleaded. "How can you leave us? Yae? Sae? We need you to help us. You were born for this purpose. Where are you? Come to us and all will be forgiven."  
  
Then came threats and finally only curses reached her ears. Minutes crept into long hours before she saw a large group of villagers walk down the road beside her house. One of the twins stood within the large crowd, head hung, hands clasped daintily before her. One of the villagers held her by the elbow, guiding her. The girl looked up at the window where Chitose stood and there was such pain there, such fear and guilt, that Chitose realised something was wrong.  
  
Footsteps in the hall. Her father dashing past without gazing into Itsuki's bedroom, his cell, without gazing at his daughter. Mirai was there and they spoke in hushed tones together, gesturing wildly. There were tears in Mirai's eyes.  
  
"Itsuki ... in his cell..." Mirai said. "He's killed himself. Yae's still missing and he killed himself. Maybe he realised that the Repentance would be upon us. He helped them. He helped this happen and now we're all going to die. No, not even that gift shall be given us."  
  
"Itsuki? Dead? He suffered much..."  
  
"Now we shall suffer more."  
  
"No. The ritual will work with one twin, must work, so there's a chance."  
  
"Itsuki's meddling has killed us all. Chitose ... you ... not even Sae shall escape. That is why he died. He's still hanging and Yae's still running."  
  
"At least we have Sae. The ritual must begin soon. We must have hope."  
  
"No," Chitose screamed, fleeing from Itsuki's room and running down the stairs, past them and towards the main door. Itsuki dead and all because of Yae. That scheming bitch had killed her brother. Now they were both gone, gone and dead. Her brothers. All gone. And now something would come to kill them all.  
  
So she ran towards the front door to see for herself. Only the front door started to open and a stranger hobble inside. The man others had whispered about and called the Kusabi. Seeing her, he called out, pleading for her to come to him and give him the key. But she was too frightened. So she ran into a nearby closet and hid, waiting there, quietly, as his footsteps approached.  
  
Her father and Mirai came running in through the door Chitose had used only moments earlier. No doubt they had been following her. The Kusabi turned and ran, she could hear his heavy footfalls as he left only to fall into the waiting arms of some mob or other. She could hear their triumphant shouts. Her father and Mirai followed them outside.  
  
Then there was quiet for a little while. Someone, somewhere, screamed faintly in the distance. Perhaps it was a birdcall. It was so hard to tell. Then it was quiet for a long while. Yet still she waited, hiding in the closet, the little bell ringing with every movement. She even tried ringing it on purpose, trying to conjure Itsuki's spirit back into his body so that he might help her, although she didn't know what she'd do if it happened.  
  
It had been cold and dark in the closet when she had first entered yet somehow it seemed even more so. At first she thought it might be only her imagination but when she raised her hands to her face, she had to nearly poke her own eyes to see the dim outline of her fingers. Footsteps sounded on the road outside, clattering across the cobblestone. She sat up straight, eager to hear her father come inside.  
  
Instead the footsteps carried on right past her house and towards the shrine only, the monotonous sounds of its footsteps punctuated by shrill cries and drawn-out screams. Finally the footsteps stopped as the villager crashed into something heavy, knocking it over. Then the runner began to scream and she knew suddenly that he were male. He had a man's scream, strained and yet still containing a depth women lacked, something so rarely heard that it chilled her.  
  
Shivering, she pulled her knees up under her chin and huddled in a corner of the closet. Then she began to cry. The screams carried on, sounding out from various places within the village. Something heavy fell from either the rooftop or the bridge that connected her home with another. Then footsteps, running, reached the door to her foyer and someone crashed through the doors and ran frantically down the hall and past her closet.  
  
Chitose opened the door a crack and peered out at the running woman. It was Mirai and she fled with a sort of purposeful desperation, her face set in the sort of fear only seen when someone was afraid that they might not be able to reach their destination. She wanted to call out to her but when she opened her mouth, no sound would come out. The bell tinkled but Mirai didn't seem to notice. She wasn't Itsuki, had never heard his promise and so even if she did hear, she would have thought nothing of it.  
  
So Chitose closed the closet door once more and looked around for somewhere to hide. The closet itself seemed to big and open, so very exposed, and she craved the comfort of some place small and compact. Then she spied one of the storage boxes where her father had once kept a variety of kitchen instruments. Carefully, slowly, she unpacked one of the boxes. The slight chill to the air seemed to be more solid, seeming to draw the very warmth from her flesh.  
  
Once the box was unpacked she crept inside and lay down, pulling her knees up against her chest to maintain warmth. She was very sad to hear the noises outside but what could she do to help? There was someone laughing yet that didn't do anything to make her feel better. If anything, it only made her feel worse. Who, but a madwoman, would find humour in the horrors that were happening outside?  
  
She pulled the lid down over her, hoping to block out the noises but only managing to muffle them. Another set of footsteps, slow and dainty, entered her house and strolled down the hallway. The person entered the room and stopped just short of the closet. She closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, trying to pretend she wasn't there. For some strange reason, she couldn't hear the person outside breathe even though the screams were distant and weak now.  
  
The person slowly slid the closet doors open slowly and Chitose fought the urge to squirm. The sound of the doors opening grated on her nerves, setting the hairs on the back of her neck on edge and bringing her skin out in goosebumps. The person waited there for a very long time and yet still she could not hear any breathing. She resisted the urge to peer out, to lift the lid or move at all, fully aware of the bell she held. What had once been a thoughtful gift was now lethal.  
  
Finally, the person slid the door shut and walked away.  
  
Chitose didn't allow herself to breathe normally until the woman had left the house. She lay there, waiting for the person to come back, waiting for either death or hope, whichever the visitor had come to bring. She expected it was death. After a time, she fell asleep. She never remembered falling asleep, only remembered jerking awake, the little bed tinkling. Her stomach rumbled, sending pain arcing through her small body, and she chewed her lip in an attempt to stifle the pain.  
  
More insidious and more disturbing than the hurtful pit in her belly was the weight just below it. She rubbed her legs together in an effort to contain the urge and time ticked by with the heaviness growing stronger and more insistent. She knew she had to get up and find somewhere to wee soon. She knew she needed food and couldn't last here long. But it was so quiet now, aside from the odd quiet footfall that broke off almost as soon as it started, and so very dark. She was far too frightened to move from her little hiding place and into the closet, let alone venture out into the house.  
  
She decided to wait for dawn but it never came. Time rolled on and yet there was no sign of brightness and she realised that it would be dark forever. She cried for daddy and Itsuki and even Sae and was left with a strange emptiness where her heart used to be. She cried so hard her fragile body was wracked with sobs, almost unleashing the pent-up volume of wee she fought to hard to keep inside. She cried so hard she had to stuff the sleeve of her kimono halfway down her throat to stifle the sound. She cried so hard she somehow fell asleep again.  
  
And then she was walking through her happy house again, with Itsuki and Mutsuki playing hide-and-seek and she was eating a pastry her father had brought from one of the more advanced cities that were so very far away. Finally she reached the place where her family relieved themselves and sat down as best she could. She felt joyous with the warm glow of the sun around her as she let herself go. Felt joyous as the sun warmed her body, spreading upwards, downwards and outwards. Then felt absolutely miserable when she woke up in a puddle.  
  
Still she waited a little while for dawn or for some recognisable footstep. Then when she couldn't wait any longer with the smell of wee that was trapped with her in the box, she lifted the lid a little and peered out. Still too frightened to leave the sanctity of the box, she merely drew in deep breathes of the cleaner air entering the box.  
  
Finally she could no longer stand the confinement and climbed out and was tempted to take off her kimono. It stuck to her unpleasantly. There was nothing to do, though, and she was more frightened to being naked at a time like this than disgusted by the dampness. She quietly examined the other boxes for something she could wear. No luck. All the clothes had been stored in their own rooms.  
  
So she crouched in the corner of the closet for a very long time, mustering up enough strength to slide the closet door across slightly. Even then it took an even longer time for her to be able to calm her breathing and relax her heart enough to pull it back far enough for her to crawl out. The house was empty. Quiet and empty. It seemed almost dead, like a husk or a dried-out carcass of something that was once vibrant and warm.  
  
Carefully, quietly, she crawled towards the nearest mat, reached out and managed to snag a corner between her fingers. Then she darted back into the closet and pulled the door shut. She sat there, panting, clutching the mat to her chest and trying to throw off the sickly post-fear feeling that pumped within her veins. At least it was a little warmer now. Although the pain in her belly had grown, only to be matched by the dryness in her mouth and throat. She was also well aware of the need to poo. It wasn't a pressing need at the moment, wouldn't be for at least a day, but she knew it would come along sooner or later. Unlike dawn.  
  
Images sprang across her mind, unwanted phantoms conjured by idleness, as she stared at the closet door and contemplated leaving for food and another kimono. She could hide in a different closet if need be. It wouldn't be too much trouble. Yet the sounds of screams still echoed in her ears, the image of Itsuki hung, his neck maybe broken, his eyes lifeless. Images of Mutsuki and Sae, dead, wherever they were, for some godforsaken ritual she knew little about. She wondered what had happened to them and shuddered as images of gore and torture played across the black closet walls. However, she had no real concept of what a person's insides looked like and suspected her version of smooth stumps and wet red meat might not be accurate.  
  
Then she headed outside again. Suddenly and impulsively. She didn't realise she had left the safety of the closet until she was halfway across the room, crossing over to where there was a half-eaten bowl of noodles by the fireplace. She knew it was there because she hadn't eaten it. It was still there when she reached it, her heart hammering, a bitter taste in her mouth. Grabbing the bowl, she threw her head back and drank it. It was cold, slimy and slightly congealed. It nearly made her gag. But she ate it and it satisfied the pain a little.  
  
She started looking around for more food. Her stomach taking over, forcing such petty concepts as a wee-soaked kimono to the back of her mind. She headed for one of the rooms where she believed her father hadn't finished a cup of tea. The door had been boarded up on the side she faced. Somehow she hadn't heard that happen. She stared at the door and thought she heard footsteps on the other side.  
  
Leaning an ear closer to it, she was sure she could hear muttering as someone paced about inside. The words were unintelligible but surely anyone who boarded up a door must be frightened. So she tapped lightly on the door. Yet why would they board up the door on the wrong side? Surely that meant they had been boarded into that room because of something bad they did. Instantly she regretted the noise.  
  
The muttering and footsteps had stopped.  
  
She started backing away from the door, her eyes fastened to its wooden exterior. The being twisted the knob but the boards held it shut fast. Then something gray and translucent began to almost seep through the wood, becoming an oval shape, then four other oval shapes appeared, joining at a hand. Before the thing, the ghost, could come for her, she turned to run.  
  
The room before her closet was filled with ghosts. They stood motionless, easily a half dozen of them, staring at the door that led to the stairwell. Footsteps came from both that direction and from behind her. The ghosts themselves muttered to themselves about darkness and silence, pain and betrayal.  
  
"You too?"  
  
"No more room up there."  
  
"Close the door. No, don't.  
  
"Please let me up?"  
  
"They say it. No. But the day never came."  
  
"It hurts."  
  
"She's coming."  
  
"There's another and another. So many, but I can't see them all."  
  
"Where is she? I keep looking."  
  
The footsteps came more quickly now. The person they were awaiting cackled and the sound spurred Chitose into action. She darted past the ghosts towards her closet and slipped inside. How could there be so many of them? She climbed back into her box and pulled the lid back down. The wee was cooled now and it didn't help her chilled position.  
  
The muttering, footsteps and other sounds ceased immediately. There was only her breathing in the silence. She realised she had forgotten her mat. It was so very cold where she was and the hunger was back. She tried to sleep yet couldn't. It never became any brighter outside and she never moved her hands in fear that the bell would tinkle. Instead she waited for someone living to come to her.  
  
She waited so long the box stank of wee and poo. She waited so long hunger ate away her body and her soul. She waited until the tears wouldn't come anymore because there was no water left to supply them. After a while she wished for Yae, believing her to have escaped and therefore coming for her with a team of rescuers. Then she cursed Yae, silently. Sometimes she wavered between longing and loathing.  
  
She waited in that box until leaving was no longer an option. At some point, after god knows how many hours, she tried to lift the lid of the box but she hadn't the strength to raise her hand. She managed to tap the lid, then scratch it, then let her hand fall limply to her side. There simply was no more left.  
  
Then one day, after the pain had drifted away into numbness, after she had fallen asleep for what she had hoped was for the last time, it came back again and it really started to hurt.  
  
THE END.  
  
So who should the next story be about? Also, if any of the facts I presented her are wrong, tell me and I'll get on it ASAP. 


End file.
